Watership Down: A New Warren
by frostdrop1
Summary: When Thrift's warren is nearly wiped out by man she is forced to flee. Enlisting the aid of Captain Foxglove they, together, struggle to survive and both are troubled by their loses and what they have seen. With no friends or family left, they come across Hazel and his warren. The two try and settle down there with little other choice, but is it really as peaceful as it seems? OCs.
1. Chapter 1 - The Danger of Trust

**Watership Down**

**A New Warren**

**Chapter 1: The Danger of Trust**

A sand brown doe sat on the stop of a small mound in the meadow, watching Frith as he sunk from the clear sky above, orange tinting the horizon. The colourful flowers amongst the grass seemed to dance in the wind along with the fur of the doe. Her black ears stood tall, alert for any sounds of danger, all four paws set firmly down on the mound to keep her steady.

"Thrift!" A completely black buck called, hopping over. "What are you doing all the way out here again? It'll get dark soon, and the elil aren't all gone yet." He stopped at the foot of the mound and sat down, raising his paw. "It's too dangerous to be out here alone, you know that."

"I just..." Thrift began, trailing off slightly before picking up again. "I just have a bad feeling." She tore her vision away from Frith, and looked down at the buck with an anxious violet gaze.

"Haha, come on, you say that every day."

"I know I've said it every day for the past hrair days but... the feeling keeps getting stronger, Walnut. It... it started off like just a thought in the back of my mind but... this bad feeling is now... all I can think about. It's so... looming. I just know it's a warning, Walnut. I know it. I tried telling the chief but he didn't listen. You know as well as I do that man has been getting closer to us all the time and those tracks the hrududu travel on... more of them have been around lately."

"You're just imagining things. A'right, I know man is around but they aren't that close yet, and the hrududu aren't a danger as long as we keep away from them. I feel perfectly content, so there's nothing to worry about, a'right?"

Thrift smirked and got up taking one step down the mound to be closer to Walnut.  
"Because you're a seer now are you?" She joked.

"Yeah, just like you." He commented sarcastically. "Last time I checked you weren't a seer either, so quit your worrying." he looked at Frith, then back to Thrift. "Frith is going to be sleeping soon, so as I said, we should go back to the warren."

"Okay, okay, we'll head back." Thrift leapt down from the mound and began the journey back, Walnut catching up and staying beside her. "I wish it was safe to be out more."

"The owsla are doing their best to make it safe but... the elil just keep coming." Walnut shook his head. "They won't be gone for a long while yet."

"Not while they know us rabbits are around. Speaking of the owsla, has Captain Foxglove thought about taking up my offer yet?" Thrift chuckled.

"About joining the owsla?"

"Yeah."

"Oh yes, he thought about it. He's still adamant that being in the owsla is a bucks, and only a bucks, job."

Thrift sighed.

"But I can't dig, Walnut. I tried and all I can do is collapse the tunnels." Thrift frowned. "I've asked the Captain so many times... I've even offered to demonstrate what I know, from what you've taught me and all.. thanks, again, for teaching me."

"It's no problem." Walnut glanced over her, then back forward and nudged Thrift playfully. "We're friends. Helping each other out is what we do best."

Thrift sniggered and nudged him back.

"Right, because you always help all your other 'friends' like you do me."

Walnut was taken back, and perked his ears up, his mouth hung open slightly.

"Well I-"

"Race you back!" Thrift interrupted, and bolted off.

Walnut watched her for a few seconds, before he shook his head, snapped himself back to reality and bounded after her.

"I'll still beat you, head start or not!"

Upon arriving back at the warren, Walnut and Thrift said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, each heading to their own burrows. While walking back Thrift passed many rabbits she was acquainted with; Billberry, Sundew, Oxlip, Fuchsia, Persimmon, Thlay-roo. None of which she knew very well, but she knew enough to know they weren't part of her neighbourhood. She greeted them all the same as she would any other, without stopping to chat.

Eventually Thrift arrived back at her burrow, to see her friend, the doe that she shared her burrow with, already there.

"You're back late again, Thrift." The doe complained, her golden fur dulled with having been digging all day.

"Sorry, Rosemary, I got caught up watching Frith descend from the sky. You should come with me sometime, it is a very beautiful sight." Thrift made her way over to the centre of her burrow and laid down on the fresh bedding of grass. "Hey, did you get the new grass? Ah, of course you did. Thanks." Thrift rolled onto her back, enjoying her new bed.

"Yes, I get you your new bedding every time... rather than viewing Frith, come with me and get your own bedding next time you lazy hlessiroo." Rosemary laid down on her own patch of grass, resting her head on her paws.

"I'm not burrow-less Rosemary, or I wouldn't be in here with you now, hm, would I?"

"Sometimes I wish you weren't in this burrow with me..."

"Aw, you're so miserable to be around sometimes." Thrift rolled onto her front, and looked at Rosemary. "Say, why were there so many other rabbits in this section of the warren? They don't usually visit."

"Well you would have known if you'd have been back on time; ni-Frith, like I told you."

"I didn't think it'd actually be important, ha... sorry." Thrift folded her ears down and they both fell into a silence before Thrift spoke again. "So, what's they occasion anyway? Will you tell me or will I have to go find someone else to give me the news?"

"And wake me up when you come back? Not likely." Rosemary yawned. "We're tired of the chief, Thrift. He doesn't listen to what anyone tells him and he's begun to seal off passages which join sections of the warren together. We're all scared and don't trust him. Some of us think he's gone mad. Some fled earlier because they came to the conclusion that he was plagued by a disease of the mind. Who knows what's happened to them by now." She explained.

"I see so... what is everyone planning to do? Rebel?"

"We, ah... don't know yet. We're going to plan that at the next meeting." Rosemary looked up at Thrift, then laid her head down again and turned away. "Now go to sleep. I'm tired from digging, you should try doing some work sometime."

Thrift laid her head down. _A mad chief,_ Thrift thought to herself, _well, that explains why he wouldn't listen at least. I aren't alone with not being listened to. I wonder what others have tried to tell him? Whether they have the same bad feeling or not... I'll ask around tomorrow, it's about time I did something like that anyway. _She closed her eyes and laid there thinking for a while before finally drifting off to sleep.

Thrift woke to the sound of rabbit's paws thumping along the warren floor. She sat up and looked to the side to see Rosemary was not in the burrow. Thrift stood and walked out her burrow, looking around. She saw a crowd of rabbits heading to the exit of the warren, no one staying inside. Thrift tilted an ear down and followed out of curiosity. Once she was outside, apparently being the last to leave her section of the warren, the stood on her hind legs to try and see beyond the crowd of rabbits, to no avail. She heard mumbles of "man" and "flayrah", but little else was understandable amongst the chatter. Eventually she saw Walnut and hopped over to him, tapping his shoulder.

"Hm?" He glanced over and his face changed quickly, from a serious expression to a friendly one. "Thrift! I thought you wouldn't ever show."

"What's going on? The crowd rushing out just woke me up."

"Well, I don't know much myself but man has apparently left flayrah for us."

"Man?" Thrift tilted one ear down.

"Yes." Walnut replied.

"And flayrah?"

"Yes."

"But we can't eat that!" Thrift exclaimed, wondering how this was actually an action being considered.

"Well, that's what's being debated right now. On one paw, it's dangerous with the elil around. If we ate this inside the warren as opposed to silflay we would be safer. We wouldn't have to go outside for hrair days and that might just deter the elil away – no meals to be had. But, obviously, this was left by man. They are also elil themselves and when they leave something we can never trust it. We have to wait for the chief's decision."

Thrift shook her head, worried. "But how can we trust the word of the chief he's-"

"Silence now! The chief has made a decision!" The signature gruff voice of Captain Foxglove rang out.

Thrift fell silent, as well as Walnut, along with the rest of the crowd. The chief was seen climbing onto a heightened plateau used for announcements. He was an old buck now, an had guided the warren for hrair seasons. His once maroon fur was now greying with age, his ears drooped and whiskers bent.

"We are facing troubled times," the chief began, even his voice seemed to have withered. To Thrift, it was clear a new chief was needed. "The elil watch our every move and each day man gets closer, and so do the hrududu's." His speech was slow, but despite that and his wary sound, he still made an impact. "We have lost many friends and family members to inle. Some were brave bucks of the owsla, fighting to defend the warren. Others were innocent rabbits; some does, some young. It is vitally important that their lives do not go to waste. And so, with hearing each side of the argument I have decided that we shall consume the flayrah that man has left." There was a mumble from the crowd, some happy with his decision, others displeased.

"How can he decide that? What if this is some kind of trap?" Thrift growled.

"That's the final word, Thrift... I can't say I like it either." Walnut responded, glancing at her. Seeing Thrift's anger, Walnut folded his ears down and rested his paw on her back. "Don't worry, we'll be a'right."

Thrift looked at Walnut and relaxed, nodding.

"Yeah... yeah, of course." She replied, leaning against him.

Walnut accepted her weight, letting her do as she liked, just wanting to be a comfort for her.

"No rabbit is to eat silflay. We are not to let the elil bring the Black Rabbit of Inle to our warren yet." The chief continued. "The flayrah will be rationed to make it last as long as possible. Our warren will prevail."

Thrift looked away from the chief, to Captain Foxglove beside him. Even he appeared unsure of the chief's decision. The crowd cheered. The chief has won them over. Few now gave resistance to the idea of eating flayrah given to them from man.

The rabbits quickly got to work with gathering the flayrah and transporting it inside the warren as the owsla stood guard. Walnut helped with the transport, but Thrift refused to so much as go near the flayrah. Instead, she made her way over to Captain Foxglove. As she approached the light grey buck she slowed. Though she has approached him many times to ask about joining the owsla, he still appeared intimidating to her. The mane of dark grey fur around his neck made Foxglove appear powerful; proud, and the brown streak on his head and down his forelegs emphasised how he held his head high, and the visible power his strike would have.

"Captain?" She said, simply to catch his attention.

"No, Thrift." He looked at her, maintaining a solemn look and tone. "I have told you before, you may not join my owsla. You are a doe. Fighting is not a doe's role."

"Ha, right but... that wasn't what I came to you for this time."

"No? Then what did you come for?"

"I came to ask if you really agree with the chief's decision." Thrift boosted herself onto her hind legs to be in the same stance as Foxglove.

Foxglove took the time to look at his bucks, some of them were watching him, curious as to his answer. He looked back at thrift.

"Of course I agree." He frowned slightly and paused for a few seconds. "He's my chief; I would never question his judgement. Now, I don't need you questioning me. Go and expand the warren with the other does." Foxglove turned away from Thrift

"But I can't dig sir, I've told you, I want to join the owsla."

"Does can't fight."

"Well I can!"

"Leave!" He raised his voice, not turning to look at Thrift.

Thrift locked her jaws, returned to all fours, turned and hopped back to the warren without another word.

By the time Thrift had returned, all the flayrah had been moved inside the warren. Many of the rabbits were now having their morning rations, others were more wary. Thrift searched around and found Rosemary chewing on a carrot.

"Hello, Thrift." She greeted, taking another bite form her meal. "Going to eat or join the conspiracy theorists?" She gestured to a group of rabbits keeping far away from the flayrah.

"I'm not going to eat or join them... though I do prefer them. I thought you didn't trust the chief?"

"I don't" Rosemary replied. "But I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"I see..." Thrift eyes the flayrah. "Does it taste good then?"

"Oh yes. It does have the stench of man, so it smells funny... and tastes a bit off, but regardless of that it still tastes better than silflay."

"Is that so..." Thrift leant down and sniffed the carrot, then scrunched up her nose. "Embleer Frith! That doesn't just smell of just man Rosemary! That's disgusting. Well, man smells bad but that's even worse."

"Agreed, but it tastes fine." Rosemary rolled the rest of her carrot to Thrift. "Try it if you like."

Thrift pulled away and shook her head.

"No thanks..."

"Suit yourself." Rosemary pulled the carrot back to herself, continuing with it. "Walnut tried it." She added on a side-note.

"And what did he think?" Thrift asked.

"He liked it. He had a bit more then went off to report to Foxglove. If you don't eat, you'll starve. You heard the chief; no silflay. Just this flayrah."

"Yeah." Thrift grumbled. "I heard..." She looked at the other rabbits that were munching on their flayrah – everything a rabbit could want from carrots to turnips to lettuce to cucumber to spinach. Everyone appeared to be enjoying their flayrah, seemingly all had forgotten it's origins with man.

A few days passed, and no one has left the warren. Elil had come to the burrow entrances, attempting to taunt and provoke rabbits out, but all had failed. The rabbits knew the plan was working and that the elil were leaving, giving up on their "easy meals" of "longears". The rabbits had continued to eat the flayrah. Some of the previous ones who resisted had given in and also began to eat, but others stayed adamant that they would not consume food given to them by man, and that group included Thrift. Thrift and a few others had also begun to notice who else was covertly not eating the flayrah. They made out like they were, but actually, were not. That group included Captain Foxglove. To some of the resistance, the fact that Captain Foxglove was not eating was a minor support and comfort in that they were making the wise choice. Others were weakening with hunger and felt they were being foolish, but they had come this far, and they might as well have keep going.

As Thrift hopped down the runs of the warren on her own, she began to think. All the rabbits had been confined to the warren. But, as the days went by, she saw less and less emerge from their burrows. She checked on her neighbours, and they were all alive and well, but all of them seemed to complain about the same thing; feeling weak. This worried Thrift. Was the warren going to really come down with a plague? Should she leave? What about her friends and family? Walnut and Rosemary? Were they okay? Thrift saw Rosemary every day. Even she had complained about feeling weak, and had decided to stay back and rest rather than accompany Thrift on a walk. _Even though we have food,_ Thrift began to think, _and were all perfectly healthy before, rabbits have gotten weak. The only thing different is the food. I knew that stuff was bad. I knew. And so did a few others. Those who haven't eaten haven't gotten weak. Well, at least it's only weakness they're showing. Things could be worse. _Thrift headed over to Walnut's burrow and poked her head inside.

"Walnut?" She called, and was replied with a groan. Thrift walked inside and laid down beside Walnut. "Walnut, are you feeling okay?"

"Top of the world, Thrift..." He gave a slight laugh, his eyes closed.

"You've come down pretty bad." Thrift lifted her paw and rested it on Walnut. "Worse than most... but you're going to be okay, okay?"

"Who are you kidding Thrift? You were right... we shouldn't have eaten the flayrah. I ate it, and look at me... then look at you... you didn't eat." Walnut opened his eyes and looked at Thrift. "You must feel weak too... not eating for days. Hungry, am I right?"

"You're right." Thrift smiled at him. "Of course you're right."

Walnut sat himself up, leaned over and nuzzled Thrift. She looked at him. _Walnut... _She thought.

"I won't eat anymore flayrah, Thrift. I ate in minimal amounts but... that didn't help apparently." Walnut laid his head down. "It makes me weaker to eat than to not."

"I know. Rosemary isn't as weak as you, and despite seeing the damage she wants to keep eating that flayrah. I don't know what man did to it, but it'll kill us. And since man knows we're here, they'll come. Man will come, Walnut. Man has been to give us the flayrah, and they'll come again to check it's done it's job." Thrift squeezed her eyes shut.

"Yes I... I think that's true." Walnut paused. "Thrift, you've got to leave the warren."

"Leave? I understand but you and Rosemary and everyone else... I can't just go, Walnut."

"You have to. You're... one of the few able bodies left. We're done for, Thrift..." Walnut took a deep breath. "You should gather who you can, and leave. Go far away and find somewhere safe."

"No. I'm not leaving you yet. Nobody has died, so there's no proof that the flayrah kills."

"But man will."

"Man's not here yet." Thrift declared the statement like it was an order for Walnut to be silent, and it worked for a few minutes.

"You're such a stubborn doe sometimes..." He mumbled.

"And you're a... come to think of it I don't know what you are regarding being a buck."

Walnut chuckled weakly.

"In that case, I win this round." He shuffled over and lays against Thrift. "Thrift, I know this isn't your burrow but... will you stay with me? Just tonight. You can go back to Rosemary tomorrow."

Thrift didn't have to think. As far as she was concerned, this was the last time she may see her friend and it was important that she kept him company at least this one time.

"Of course I'll stay. You only ever had to ask."

Walnut smiled slightly.

"I'll remember that." He said.

The two spent the rest of the day in Walnut's burrow. They talked about past times, about the times they were smart and the times they were stupid. Neither ate any flayrah, and when it came time for Frith to rest, they too fell asleep, side by side.

* * *

**Notes**

If there are any grammatical or spelling mistakes please alert me and I will see about correcting those. I can't promise I will definitely finish the story. My only other story, "Together Again", an Ouran High School Host Club fanfiction, was never finished and let that be a warning to anyone who has pet peeves about not finishing. I do personally have that internal rage at when there's a story I like and the author never bothers to finish and I have no real excuse. Yes, I have a heavy workload with Sixth Form, but that's never why I don't finish. I don't finish because of a lack of motivation. At the moment I don't have a real plan for this story just a rough outline in my head so the story may go a bit off the rails if I do continue and don't make a plan for the future soon, but regardless I hope you enjoyed reading and have a good day (or night). Ciao!


	2. Chapter 2 - Light's Out

**Watership Down**

**A New Warren**

**Chapter 2: Light's out**

Thrift woke the next morning, looked at Walnut, and examined him with her violet gaze. He was breathing, indicated by the steady rise and fall of his chest. _Good, a relief,_ Thrift thought. She had feared waking up to find her closest friend had stopped running in the night – having been taken by the Black Rabbit of Inle. That, thankfully, wasn't the case. Thrift let out a breath she had held momentarily and waited. Considering the weakened state of her friend, she didn't want to wake him from his slumber earlier than he was ready. Thrift laid her head down on her paws and sat in silence.

It didn't take long before Walnut roused, his first reaction to waking being a groan from the aching pain throughout his body. He then felt the comforting warm of an entity beside him, and he snuggled into it instinctively.

"Morning," Thrift greeted, "I see your fondness of me hasn't diminished overnight." Walnut chuckled at her comment.

"No, it hasn't." He opened his emerald eyes and looked at her as she sat up, Thrift now feeling reassured that she was okay to move. "If anything I became more fond." Walnut picked himself up, sitting up like Thrift. "I dreamt about you, y'know."

"Oh? About me?" Thrift raised her paw to her chest in faux-flattery.

"Yes, I can't recall much of it but I do remember thinking that even El-ahrairah would simply have to give at least smile in your presence." Walnut smirked, while Thrift leant over to him.

"You seem to prey on ever doe you meet. Turned to me in desperation now, have you?" Thrift leant back, giving Walnut a curious look that he couldn't quite read.

He wasn't sure if she was being playful with the comment, or serious.

"I may have, I may have not." He answered, deciding he should answer Thrift with as a confusing reply as her look was.

Thrift stood, dug the claws of her fore-paws into the ground and stretched, arching her back with a yawn, then a heavy exhale, her black-tipped ears falling over her face.

"I suppose we'll see from your future endeavours." Her voice strained slightly as she stretched. Thrift stood straight, also allowing her ears to erect themselves. "Right, well, here's what I've been thinking while you were sleeping." She sat again.

"Thinking? You? Ha, don't joke with me like that." Walnut waves his paw in defence when Thrift gave him a glare, obviously not taking the statement as the joke it was intended to be. Walnut cleared his throat. "Ah, well, let's hear it. I'm all ears."

"I was thinking that if you're not going to eat the flayrah in hopes of recovering, then you're going to need food of some sort." Thrift turned her expression serious. "You won't recover if you're ill and starving. So, I'm going to go out and see if I can get you something. It'll probably be just silflay, but if you want any specific flowers from the meadow or something I could try and get those as well without being noticed."

"Thrift, we're not allowed out. And even if you were to get me something to eat, what about yourself and everyone else? Besides, the meadow is too far away. We're surrounded by a thin forest with thick bushes that you have to travel though to get to the meadow. It's not safe. If any elil are still lurking they won't hesitate to pounce on you."

"I make the trip to the meadows regularly. I'll be fine."

"But when you've made the trips before the elil havven't been so hungry from a lack of meals!"

Thrift grumbled, knowing Walnut was right, but not wanting to accept it. She'd only gone out when she knew elil weren't around or weren't hungry. Elil are more common at night, it's an easier hunt for them, but with being desperate for food they may be prowling around in the day.

"Fine." Thrift stood. "Either way, I'm going to go check on Rosemary." She hopped to the exit of the burrow, and glanced back at Walnut. "Don't over exert yourself." She warned.

"And you, don't push your luck." Walnut frowned slightly, and sighed helplessly as Thrift left his burrow. He didn't believe for a second that she'd stay put, but he could hardly make his way around the runs of the warren without feeling tired. If Thrift were to go out, and he to follow her, he would simply become a hindrance and be more likely to get them both killed. "Please don't do something reckless, Thrift. Frith, please, protect her."

Thrift left Walnut's burrow and heard a faint, unintelligible mutter follow after her. _I can't let him starve_, She thought, glancing either side as she came to a T-section in the run, checking for anyone who might see her slip out the warren,_ I can't let myself, or anyone who might survive starve. _Thrift rounded the corner, seeing that there was no owsla threat, and made her way to the exit. When she came to the nearest exit, she found two guards posted there. The chief had posted guards at every exit. He had definitely fallen into madness. Thrift hopped over to them, and stood back on her hind legs, and bowed her head respectfully to the guards.

"Persimmon, Coxcomb." She greeted.

Persimmon was a golden-yellow rabbit who had a relatively weak build for an owsla buck. Rather than using strength, he was known for using his intelligence. He had a gentle nature, but due to his job in the owsla he hid it behind a stern, unbreakable mask. Coxcomb, on the other paw, was grey with both his forelegs painted black. He had a very strong build and was well known for being one of the most powerful owsla members. Thrift had seen Foxglove take quite the liking to Coxcomb for his strength and stamina in difficult situations. However, Coxcomb wasn't too bright, or too friendly. He was, infact, quite the bully, and often stole well-earned flayrah from any of those who were of a lesser rank than him. _They're quite the pair together,_ Thrift thought.

The two guards looked at each other, then at Thrift.

"What do you want?" Persimmon inquired, keeping a straight and serious face.

"I have a message, from Captain Foxglove." Thrift said, thinking on the spot, having not made a plan.

"Is that so?" Coxcomb sneered, not seeming like he'd even give Thrift a chance of getting past him.

"Yes, he said that the rotation will be happening early. You're to swap with Eremurus and Larkspur now. They will be going to feast on the flayrah soon. Narcissus and Protea will take over." Thrift informed them, hoping they would buy it. Persimmon seemed to consider the information as being true, but still continued to inquire.

"And why did the Captain have you inform us rather than an owsla member?"

"I think it was because I was the most easily accessible at he time. I was asking to join the owsla again and, as usual... he refused..." Thrift trailed off and grunted, adding to her act.

Coxcomb laughed.

"Again?" He bellowed merrily. "You should just give up. A doe can't do a buck's job. Doe's are only good for digging and raising young. You couldn't do a buck's job after a hrair season cycles." Coxcomb lowered his head to the ground laughing, gasping for air.

Thrift locked her jaws and frowned, lifted her paw and cuffed the buck and the head, sending him sprawling to the floor. Persimmon instantly sprung into action and leapt on Thrift, pinning her, holding down her paws down with his own, one hind leg pressed down on her stomach, and the other on the ground for support.

"Get off me!" Thrift growled, struggling, but not wanting to fight Persimmon. She knew he was nice really; not like Coxcomb.

"Calm down. You just attacked an owsla officer!" Persimmon leant down and lowered his voice. "I could take you into custody for that." He paused. "But I won't, he deserved it. We all know that." He stood back up as Thrift stopped struggling. Persimmon looked over at Coxcomb who was now standing, snarling.

"Why that ignorant doe... I'll show her a real cuff!" Coxcomb took a step forward, but Persimmon raised a paw placing it against his chest, stopping him.

"No." Persimmon said, and stepped off of Thrift, letting her stand. "We have a duty to perform. You're an owsla officer, not a brute." Persimmon began hopping off. "We're rotating. Now."

Coxcomb snorted and followed Persimmon, kicking dirt into Thrift's eyes with his back paws as he left.  
"Gah!" Thrift cried in partial shock and partial pain. She shook her head, and wiped her eyes with her paws, her eyes tearing from having something irritating the surface of them. "That good-for-nothing buck..." She complained, blinking rapidly as a few stray tears fell down her cheeks, removing the dirt from her vision. "He'll get his just deserts, I swear it..." As her vision cleared, she made her way up to the surface, and poked her head out one of the many the entrances to the warren. Her ears stood straight, listening for any sound of danger; any sign of elil. She heard none. She looked around, examining the area for visible signs of danger. She saw none. Confident she was safe from elil, and aware that Persimmon and Coxcomb would return soon, realising they had been deceived, Thrift crawled out into the open clearing to feel the silflay on her paws once again.

The light from Frith lit up the clearing the warren was in beautifully. The silflay shimmered between dark and light shades of green, looking as healthy as ever. The trees surrounding the clearing stood tall and firm, and the bushes bloomed, much like the trees, with flowers of all different colours and sizes. Thrift smiled once her eyes had adjusted to the light, happy to see the silf again. She glanced around, then back down the warren, checking that she was safe again. Seeing that there were still no elil, and that the guards had not returned, she turned and bolted across the clearing, through the bushes, heading to the meadow.

By the time Thrift had reached the meadow Frith had nearly completed his journey across the sky.

"I'll have to be quick." Thrift mumbled to herself, and began collecting flowers from the meadow to take back to her friends.

Throughout the time Thrift spent in the meadow, she managed to collect a variety of flowers for others to eat; cowslips, silver scabious, chinese houses and yellow ageratum. Since it was just Thrift, she couldn't carry many, buy she tried her best to take as many edible flowers back as she could. They would brighten up her friend's days and give them energy. By the time she had turned to leave, Frith was already disappearing out of sight and it was getting dark. Thrift quickly began to head back to the warren. _Frith, please stay awake just a bit longer..._ she thought, afraid of what elil the dark might bring out. Thrift managed to make her way back into the forest, but, unfortunately, Frith appeared to not have heard Thrift's plea and as night fell. She desperately sought shelter rather than continuing the journey back to the warren. Thrift searched high and low in the area, finding little place that would serve as an adequate shelter for the night. _The elil will get me if I stay out in the open..._ Thrift thought, and gulped down a sob. Thrift's ear perked as she heard a rustle in the bushes and she spun around, eyes wide, afraid that a homba or lendri – some kind of elil would come leaping out and tear her to shreds. But, rather than some tooth an clawed elil, what emerged from the bushes was a yona. Trembling, Thrift breathed a sigh of relief. The yona was small, but just as spiky as any other. The small yona shuffled its way over to Thrift and looked up at her.

"Excuse me, but are you lost?" It asked.

"No," Thrift replied, slightly muffled from the fresh stems in her mouth, looking around. "But I... I can't make it back to my warren before the elil come out."

"In that case, follow me. I can't leave you out in the dark all alone." The yona turned and walked back to where it came from, back through the bushes.

Though cautious, Thrift followed after her spiky acquaintance, still carrying the flowers.

After a minute or two, Thrift and the yona arrived at the base of a fallen tree, a hole in the remains of the rotting stump. The interior of the remains had been eaten away and inside was a small space, enough for a yona, and apparently big enough for a rabbit as Thrift found out when she entered the structure. Thrift set the flowers down next to a wall of the hole.

"This is my home." The yona said. "You can stay here for the night while I find food to eat."

"Okay..." Thrift laid down and shuffled, getting herself comfortable. She pressed herself to the back wall, feeling uneasy about not being in her own burrow, in her own run, in her own warren.

"I'll be back at dawn." The yona informed the doe, and turned away.

"Wait!" Thrift called out, causing the yona to spin around to face her again. "What's your name?"

"Pineberry." The yona replied.

"Thank you, Pineberry. I am deeply indebted to you. I am Thrift." Thrift gave the yona, now known as Pineberry, a grateful nod.

Pineberry smiled slightly at the rabbit who had settled into her home, then turned and left to forage for food overnight. Thrift laid her head down after Pineberry had disappeared into the dark. She took a breath to relax herself, then closed her eyes. _I'll be back tomorrow, _Thrift reassured herself, then fell asleep.

Thrift jolted awake very early the next morning – so early that Frith himself was hardly awake – to a snuffling. Then a growl. Then the sound of dirt being scraped away from the ground. Thrift looked to the entrance of the stump to see two black, clawed, paws digging at the ground. The stench of elil was in the air. Thrift froze, and stood, pressing herself back against the wall of the stump – a homba! The elil continued to scrape dirt away from the little entrance, every so often leaning down and sticking it's snout through the hole, checking the size. It only needed to get its head through and Thrift was a dead doe. The homba stopped digging, briefly, and Thrift's breath hitched upon hearing a gritty, low-pitched chuckle.

"Come out, longears." The homba mocked as he saw the rabbit as simply hiding. "I can smell your fear." Thrift heard the chuckle again and the homba lowered its head, peering into the stump, yellow eyes scanning the sandy brown doe pressed against the wall. "You'll make a good snack." The homba stuffed his muzzle through the hole again, snapping at Thrift, displaying to her his sharp canine teeth; a tool for killing and ripping. Thrift whimpered as the homba backed off again and continued to dig.

For the next few minutes, Thrift waited in fear at her imminent death. _The Black Rabbit of Inle is coming for me_, Thrift concluded in panic,_ Frith, oh Frith, please save me! Give me something that may save me._ Thrift gulped.

After another few seconds had passed the homba had finally managed to make a hole big enough for its head. It lowered itself to eye-level, then lunged its head through the hole at Thrift, opening its jaws, ready to rip into Thrift's flesh. Thrift ducked, the homba, unsuccessful at biting down on Thrift's head, neck or body, however, managed to catch her right ear. Thrift screamed in pain, thrashing as she was being dragged along the ground, out of Pineberry's home. Suddenly, she cried out louder as her ear was ripped in half, blood splattering on the ground, letting Thrift drop, the homba having clamped down too hard due to a pain shooting through it's hind leg's pastern. The homba looked back to see a spiky ball embedded in his skin. The homba snarled, and shook it's leg, knocking the ball off. From the ball came a muffled, but familiar, voice.

"Run!" Came the panicked voice of Pineberry, intent on biding some time for her guest to escape.

Thrift stood idle for a second, paralysed by shock. Quickly, she snapped back to reality and picked up the flowers again; there would've been no point coming out to nearly be homba food if she didn't bring anything back. With adrenaline kicking in Thrift darted out the stump, the pain radiating from her ear now a dull ache with her fight or flight response active; past the homba who was occupying himself Pineberry's painful defence, not intending to let the interfering yona survive. All Thrift did was run. She did not, could not, look back. She couldn't hear anything except her thumping heart in her ears, and couldn't smell anything but her own blood, and so for all she knew the homba was right behind her._ I'm sorry Pineberry,_ Thrift silently begged, _please be okay. Frith, protect her. _

Thrift ran for what seemed to her like hours, eventually reaching the clearing that signalled she was back at her warren. She leapt through the foliage, leaves sprinkling the ground behind her, and she fled down into the safety of her warren. Maplebury. Home. Thrift stood at the end of the run that lead her into the warren, panting. Her breathing rate slowly regulated itself, the pain in her chest from sprinting gradually dying down, but the pain of her ear turning from an ache to a burn. The effects of the hormones circulating her body were wearing off, and now she was feeling the effects. Her muscles tired, her legs shook and crumbled. Thrift collapsed to the ground, her chest suddenly beginning to feel like it was contorting in pain. The pain of her ear flooded back. Thrift let her mouth hang open, loose, the flowers, food, falling to the ground as she groaned in pain and exhaustion. Although Thrift was too pre-occupied with herself to think much of it, there were no guards standing watch by the entrance to catch her going against Ranunculus-rah's law red-pawed. Nor were there guards who may have offered her assistance.

A few minutes passed and Thrift gulped down once more breath of air before forcing herself to sit up. She looked down the runs. No one. Not one rabbit. She looked at the ground, noticing paw-prints. She sniffed the track, a fresh scent, so someone had walked down the run recently. She sighed, relieved. She had been worried for a moment that everyone had died in the night she was away, the anxiety of the current circumstances influencing her thoughts and assumptions. Thrift pushed herself up to a stand and picked up the flowers again, making her way along the run to Walnut's burrow, having regained a bit of strength after her short rest.

When Thrift reached her intended location, she stepped into the burrow and walked in, finding Walnut pacing around his burrow. Evidently, he must be feeling slightly better, or severely worried. Thrift put the flowers down gently and cleared her throat to catch the buck's attention. Walnut's ear perked and he instantly span around at the familiar tone, his face lighting up with joy before falling into deep worry. He made his way over, leaning back onto his hind legs in front of Thrift, raising his front right leg and curling his paw around her injured ear without touching it, afraid of hurting her.

"Thrift..! What happened? Are you a'right?" He looked at the doe, concerned for her.

"I'm fine you worrying dope..." Thrift chuckled, still breathing heavily.

Walnut shook his head and looked at the flowers, before turning his gaze back to Thrift.

"That was dangerous." He scolded her. "You've gotten yourself injured! Thank Frith your alive. You're going to see Fuchsia. Now." Walnut turned Thrift around and marched the doe out his burrow, leading her elsewhere in the warren.

"Walnut," Thrift sighed as she obeyed, "I promise I'm fine."

"You won't be if something happens to that wound. You know just as well as I do that bad things happen when you leave injuries like that unattended to. They get that horrible colour and swell, and stink. Then the Black Rabbit of Inle comes for you. If that happens, you know nothing can help you then." Walnut frowned, sounding angry and upset.

Thrift understood, and so didn't complain about his tone. He made it clear he didn't want her to go and that it was dangerous. He had every right to be angry and upset, but Thrift was just happy to see him again, and know she had provided him food for when he returned to his burrow.

The two rabbits eventually came to another burrow, that was larger than average. Stepping in, Walnut looked around. From the burrow emanated a strong scent of medical herbs, a bitter smell. Sure enough, within the hole, lined up at the walls, were piles of various plants used for medication. The piles were only small, diminishing, but they still appeared to be organised in an orderly form of chaos.

"Fuchsia, a rabbit needs attention." Walnut said, informing the doe he could not see of the predicament. "Fuchsia?"

"Yes, yes! Settle down, buck!" An elderly female voice called, a greying and tired-looking doe hopping towards them from a far side of her burrow. "Every rabbit needs attention these days. Everybody's ill. There's no cure I can find! Go back to your own burrow. In my day there was never this much illness. We've become a plague warren! By Frith we're all doomed." Fuchsia stopped in front of Walnut and shook her head. She then looked over the young buck. "I don't see the problem, there's nothing wrong with you, buck. You're delusional."

"It's not me that needs attention. It's not because of this plague either that someone needs help." Walnut stepped out the way, letting Thrift approach the medicinal rabbit. "She needs help, with the ear."

"Hmm..." Fuchsia murmured as she examined Thrift's stump of an ear, stepping closer for a better look. "Homba. I've seen this many times before. The teeth marks are easily distinguishable from any other elil to me by now." Fuchsia stepped away. "I can try an help, but the lack of access to the silf means I'm running low on usable medicinal herbs. Medicinal anything for that matter. Ah, anyway, what am I rambling about again..? Hm, I don't appear to recall what I just said... well, what are you waiting for? Follow me, doe." She instructed, and turned, heading back to her burrow. "Get yourself laid down on some grass, on your side, injured ear on the up side."

Thrift followed Fuchsia, glancing at Walnut for reassurance, who nodded. Thrift continued into the burrow and followed the old doe's commands. Walnut took a step forward before being stopped as Fuchsia barked at him.

"Ah!" Fuchsia said, now glaring at him. "No other soul will be entering here while I deal with this careless critter! Now off you hop, buck."

Walnut stood still for a moment, not wanting to leave Thrift. He sighed, and resigned to the wishes of Fuchsia, turning and heading back to where he belonged. In the mean time, Fuchsia sifted through her piles of herbs looking for those that were still usable. She marched back to Thrift after gathering the required materials, chewing on the plants. Thrift looked at her, then wrinkled her snout in repulsion, realising what was going to be put on her ear. Fuchsia ground the plants into a slimy paste, the vegetation and her saliva mixing to create a healing goop. Fuchsia eventually spat out the leaves onto the injured ear, and smeared the goop over the length of the injury with her paw. Thrift winced, whimpering at the pain of the mixture contacting her ear.

"Settle down, doe. If I didn't know better I'd think you a kitten!" Fuchsia huffed, thinking that Thrift was simply acting childish.

After the mixture was applied, Fuchsia hopped off again and came back with greyish-white strings. A spider web. Fuchsia leant over Thrift, carefully applying to spider web as if it were a bandage, patting the loose ends down gently on the good part of Thrift's ear to make sure it was stuck.

"There. That should make the stuff stay. Now hop off, I can't help you anymore." Fuchsia informed Thrift in a grumbled fashion.

Thrift rose to her feet, then sat back.

"Ah, Fuchsia... about this plague... do you know what it is?" Thrift asked.

"No." Fuchsia replied, keeping her answer short, trying to deter Thrift and make her want to leave.

"Nothing at all?"

"No." Fuchsia sighed. "All I know is the symptoms. Over the first few days you grow weak, and gradually get weaker and weaker. Though, new developments have come about." Fuchsia looked at Thrift. "Now, along with the weakness, you begins to bleed from any orifice – the blood doesn't clot like it normally does. And then, eventually, the Black Rabbit takes you." Thrift let her healthy ear sink.

"Bleed?"

"Yes," Fuchsia replied, "From the eyes, ears, mouth, nostrils, rear, etcetera..."

"I don't need to know all that." Thrift mumbled.

"But it's strange. Only those who ate have been plagued. It hasn't spread at all, not like any plague I know. It's man's fault rabbits are becoming ill."

"Do you think they meant for this? Or was it... an accident?"

"Of course they meant for it!" Fuchsia snapped. "Man are the most dangerous kind of elil, child!"

"I know that." Thrift looked down. "But we don't know much about man. They're... strange." Thrift looked up at Fuchsia. "I've never seen a man hunt us like a homba or lendri... they only seem to hunt when we steal from them and take their flayrah. Man grows the flayrah and we take it. I think they're just angry, not elil."

"Why I've never heard a rabbit spout such nonsensical rubbish! Man hunts us more than just when we steal. We take because we need to survive and man doesn't need nor deserve all the flayrah it grows. Frith gifted us rabbits, not man. Therefore, us rabbits should be the ones to have that flayrah."

"But Frith created all the creatures. Surely he'd have wanted all the creatures to be treated with respect, to some degree. I would if I had created something." Thrift suggested.

"Well you, doe, aren't Frith." Fuchsia growled. "Go join that buck." With that, the elderly doe turned away and marched back into the depths of her burrow.

Thrift, feeling disappointed by Fuchsia being unable to see the perspective that she had, turned and went to reassure Walnut she was okay, hanging her head as a slight twinge of shame punctured her heart.

When Thrift had made her way back to Walnut, she found he had eaten most of the flowers. Walnut looked up and hopped over, hugging her, welcoming her back. He then sniffed and backed away.

"Bah, the herbs she put on your ear smell as strong as her whole burrow." He sniggered. "And what's this? Cobwebs?" He gestured to her ear. "That doe's lost it, I tell yah. Oh and er... thanks for the food." He nodded. "I feel a lot better for eating something. You did get something yourself, right?"

Thrift nodded.

"I got some when I collected those." She informed the buck. "A few cowslips filled me up."

"You always did favour cowslips." Walnut said idly as he thought. "One of the most boring tastes in my superior opinion." He smirked, jokingly.

Thrift gently cuffed Walnut's shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly.

"Watch it." She warned in a light-hearted tone, before settling down for some serious talk. "How are you feeling?"

"Still weak but better than before. Just from the fact I can get myself up, couldn't you tell? I definitely think it's the flayrah. No other alternative."

"Should we get rid of it? The flayrah?" Thrift asked, wondering if they could save the warren, only for Walnut to shake his head.

"The damage is done, Thrift. It's been too late for some already." Walnut frowned. "Though grim, I believe the Black Rabbit of Inle is coming for the rest soon."

"So the guards that were supposed to have been watching the entrance?"

"Some dead, some too weak to stand. Captain Foxglove gave up on making his owsla stand guard. He doesn't want to push us anymore, he knows most won't survive. He just wants the ill to have less of a struggle before they pass." Walnut explained, keeping a stern frown to refrain himself from looking sad at the loss of his comrades.

"I see..." Thrift trailed off and they both fell into a mournful silence for those who had already been taken.

During their silence, Foxglove entered into the warren.

"Making a good recovery, Officer?" He asked, looking out for one of his few more healthy owsla members. Walnut turned to him and saluted.

"Yes, Sir." He relied formally, standing tall.

"You don't need to be so proper with me anymore, Officer." Foxglove told Walnut, letting the back buck relax. "There's hardly an owsla left for it to mean anything anymore."

Thrift looked over Foxglove. Like every other rabbit who hadn't eaten, he was getting thin. His ribs were beginning to show despite his muscle, much like her own.

"In that case, would you still refuse my petition into the owsla, Sir?" Thrift joked, only to be hushed by a harsh glare.

"Denied." Foxglove replied. "What happened to your ear?" He questioned as if interrogating Thrift, looking sceptically over the stump.

"A homba, Sir. Bit my ear right off."

"You were outside?" Foxglove persisted

"Yeah. I went out to retrieve food... mainly for Walnut to help ensure his recovery, Sir." Thrift looked Foxglove in the eyes, attempting to prove her confidence to him in that believing she was right.

"You broke the chief's law." He stated, mainly to himself. "I could have you arrested."

"You're not the only one." Thrift replied, thinking back to when she cuffed Coxcomb.

"But you won't..." Walnut reassured himself, sounding slightly unsure. "Will you, Sir..?"

Foxglove stood still for a moment, staring at Thrift with his sapphire gaze. Thrift stared back. Then, Foxglove shook his head.

"No, I won't arrest you. I know that those who haven't eaten are desperate. There have been escape attempts, but each rabbit has been dragged back, under the chief's orders. This isn't a warren anymore. It's a prison. I don't know what's happened to Ranunculus-rah. He's gone mad." Foxglove said in a firm tone.

Despite what Foxglove tried to sound like, to both Thrift and Walnut, it seemed that deep down, he felt guilty for having been responsible for the imprisonment of the rabbits he is supposed to protect. Perhaps, though, there was also guilt for having accused his chief of being under the influence of madness. Thrift and Walnut looked at each other, then at Foxglove. They hopped forward, and both rested a single paw on the captain.

"Captain, Sir, you are the most noble rabbit I know." Walnut informed him. "But now, I believe a decision has to be made. You're the only one eligible to make it."

Foxglove nodded, realising that something must be done. He could, by no means, harm his chief, but he could take those rabbits still able to move to a safe place.

"Understood." Foxglove replied, as both Walnut and Thrift remove their paws. Foxglove stood silent, in deep thought, before speaking up again. "Walnut, Thrift, spread the word to any able-bodied rabbits that we will be leaving Maplebury early tomorrow morning. Tell them to be up and prepared to leave as early as possible and that they should meet in the main chamber where the flayrah is stored. From there we will head out the north-facing run, and proceed further into the forest. Tell them to wait until I arrive, if I am not first to the main chamber, before setting off." The two listeners nodded, and hopped past Foxglove, heading down opposite sides of the run to inform as many able rabbits as possible.

* * *

**Notes**

Ah! A second chapter out of a hundred! How motivated I must be for this story. Not to mention things are finally moving along and this chapter is a bit longer. The first chapter was a bit short when I put it up - but shorter chapters are easier to proof read (unfortunately there are many grammatical and spelling errors in the first chapter, so I was more careful with this one. Not to mention that there were remnants of old sentences!

**Trivia**

The flayrah (or vegetable to us) in the story is actually treated with pindone. Pindone is a poison that inhibits vitamin K from being synthesised. Vitamin K is important for blood clotting. When poisoned by pindone an animal will become weaker, and will begin to bleed from any orifice (holes in the body). It causes bleeding because pindone also results in capillaries (small tubular vessels that carry blood) breaking down. Eventually, the animal dies from internal bleeding. Pindone is considered a very inhumane way of culling rabbits, as the animal suffers and takes a long time to die - up to two weeks, and isn't legal in most countries. One of the few areas that pindone baiting is allowed is Australia/ New Zealand. Since the setting for Watership down is Hampshire, England, and the setting in this fanfiction is the same, you can take a pretty good guess by saying that the people killing these rabbits aren't very nice and aren't doing it for legal purposes.


End file.
